My Better Half Makes Me Whole
by jasper03
Summary: He's everything good in his life. His better half. The real deal.// bunches of fluff and hurt Sam and worried Dean. Enkidu07's slightly belated birthday gift from me!
1. Shoes Untied And Puppy Dog Eyes

**Happy Somewhat be-lated birthday Enkidu07!!!!! I said I would give you a better present than "Digging is Hard to do, Burying is Harder" and this is much better than "Saving Lives and Countries Since 1983" if I do say so myself...*puffs up chest and smiles proudly* Besides, I wouldn't be able to submit this as a challenge anyway seeing as it surpasses the 100 words by 1, 2, 3....3400 words! **

**I would also like to give a be-lated birthday shoutout to theblkcat (Jan. 17), Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore, and Mrs. Kripke (all Jan 24)**

My Better Half Makes Me Whole

By:Jasper03

Dean chased after his friends down the street with his little brother tagging not too far behind. He was excited the school year was over. Now he could have Dad and Sam all too himself all summer long. Well, maybe not Dad, more like Bobby or Caleb or Pastor Jim. The point was he would have Sam with him and that was all that mattered.

The boy heard a scuttling sound of tiny shoes trying to make purchase on pavement and the inevitable thud that followed when a certain six year old little brother couldn't keep his balance.

"Dean! Dean!"

Dean's heart skipped a beat when he heard his brother's cry. He turned and ran to help him. His heart just melted into his shoes when he made eye-contact with his baby brother. Poor little Sammy was sprawled out awkwardly on the pavement with big tears in his eyes.

"Sammy, are you okay?" Dean was severely hoping for a "yes".

Little Sammy Winchester shook his head. A definite "no".

Dean noticed his friends were now at his side hunching over his shoulders. "He okay y'think?"

"He'll be okay, but I'm going to take him home. I'll catch up later maybe." His friends didn't have to be told twice, within seconds the boys were rushing down the street again in reckless abandon.

"Sammy, lets go home and I'll fix ya up, okay?" Dean began to check all his brother's injuries. Boy, his brother didn't know how to do anything halfway. The kid looked like he lost a fight with a vegetable peeler. Scraped knees bled through the holey jeans and shredded palms and elbows oozed slowly.

Sam's tears began to fall rapidly and his chest heaved with every breath. "I'm sorry D-De! I didn't mean to fall."

There he goes pulling on heartstrings again. "Sammy, I'm not mad at you."

Sammy looked up with his killer eyes that made the world cry. Little brown curls fell in Sam's face and he brushed them out of the way, only to have them bounce right back. "Really?"

"Yeah Sammy. I'm worried about you." Dean reached his hand toward his brother's face and wiped away the tears that were there with his thumb. The kid thought he was mad at him? He and Sam needed to have a brother to brother talk. Maybe later they'd do that. Right now, Dean needed to get his sad little Sammy home.

"Come on little brother." Dean picked himself up from the ground and bent over reaching his hands under Sam's arms and hoisted him up into his own arms. Good thing Sam was really small for his age. Dean began his long trek home with his brother clinging to him like his life depended on it. Dean held on equally as tight, hoping Sam would soak up comfort the tighter he hugged him.

* * *

Upon arriving at the small rental house his family was living in, Dean realized their father and the Impala were gone. Dad's supposed to be home this weekend, he thought. So much for spending the first weekend of summer vacation together. He lugged his broken little brother up the porch steps and one handedly reached for his key in his pocket and unlocked the door. He pushed the door open with his foot a little too forcefully and winced as it cracked into the wall. Oops.

"Go have a seat in the kitchen and I'll find the first aid kit." Dean set his little brother down and watched his limp off.

He found the first aid quickly. It was already sitting out after being put to use just that morning when Sam managed to get a splinter in his finger from the old worn wooden door in their bedroom. His little brother had the worst luck.

Dean grabbed a pair of shorts for Sam realizing jeans would rub his hurt knees and make the injuries hurt worse. Wailing could be heard from the kitchen and Dean's big brother senses kicked into overdrive.

"Hey Sam. I found the first aid kit. I'm coming!" He ran to the kitchen and saw his brother crying again. He rushed to the kid's side.

"What's wrong?"

"It h-hurts!"

"I'm so sorry Sammy. I shouldn't have been running so fast, you wouldn't have fallen."

"My shoes." Dean looked down and saw what his was saying was his shoes were untied. Ah. Dean should made sure Sammy's shoes were tied before they left school. How could he be so thoughtless? Instead of taking care of his little brother, he was hurting him.

"Here, we'll getcha outta these jeans and I'll clean your knees up." Dean didn't wait for Sammy to begin taking the jeans off, he just stepped right in and took initiative. The older brother decided to just get Sam into the shorts immediately because the injuries would be even more tender once he scrubbed all the dirt and gravel out. It would be too difficult for his little brother to bend his knees. He grabbed a bowl and filled it with warm water and dipped a washcloth in it.

"This is going to hurt Sammy, you can grab onto me if it stings too bad. Don't worry about hurting me." I deserve it after hurting you. Bringing the warm wet cloth to his brother's knees he felt a little hand grasp his hair. Ow, ow, ow! Why the hair?

"So tell me Sammy. What did ya learn in school today?"

"We had a p-party 'cause it was the l-last day." Sammy winced as he felt his big brother scrubbing the dirt out of his scrapes.

"Did you have fun?" Just keep him talking so he doesn't have time to think about his skinned knees. It was a trick Daddy used when Dean was a few years younger. He knew Daddy had learned it from Mom.

"Um-hmm."

"What did you do?"

"All kinds of stuff. We played games and drew pictures. I made one of us."

"Really? What are we doing in it?" Dean patched up one knee and moved on to the next. Keep talkin' kiddo.

" Standin' in front of the 'Pala."

Gently, he took his brother's hand out of his hair and gave him the first aid box to hold. Dean stood to get more warm water from the sink and wash out the cloth. "Keep talkin' I'm listening Sammy."

"We're really happy. I didn't have time to draw Daddy so I pretended he was in the car."

"Why are we happy?"

"'Cause were together. We're holding hands 'cause we are best friends and we always will be, right?"

"Yup." Walking carefully across the floor with the new water and cleaned cloth, Dean readied himself for round two.

"De?"

"Huh?"

"Do you have any other best friends?"

That kinda stung. Dean didn't really have time to have best friends. His family had already moved twice this year and he was always watching Sam while his Dad was on "trips". Dad had told Dean the basics of what he did. The rest he pieced together. It would only be a matter of time before Sammy figured it out too and joined his family in their self-proclaimed freakdom.

"No. I have some friends I run around with sometimes, but you know how it goes. We move around."

Sam offered a sweet dimpled smile to his brother. Dean could always count on him to be his best friend. His brother was such a permanent fixture in his six years of life, he decided the boys were meant to be together forever and would never leave each other. "I'll be your best friend forever."

"I know." There. Done with the knees!

The older brother set to work on the elbows and hands of his little sibling. "You really aren't mad at me?"

"Sammy, you fell. In fact, it was probably my fault for not watching out for you better." As far as Dean was concerned, Sam could do no wrong at the tender age of six. A newly turned six year old at that.

Sammy looked to his brother disbelieving. Dean's fault? Sometimes his big brother was a dum-dum. "You take really good care of me."

"If I took good care of you, you wouldn't be scraped up and bleeding."

"You're taking care of me now dummy." Sam huffed. Now his brother was being really dumb.

Oh. Good point. Dean wrapped up the last of the injuries. "Better?"

Sammy nodded and Dean wiped away any remaining tears. He opened his arms knowing already what Sam wanted next.

"I love you De." Sam found his usual spot in Dean's arms. His brother wrapped his arms around him and he felt special and safe and above all loved. There isn't a person in the world that could give him all those feelings at the same time like Dean could. Not even Daddy. Sam came to the realization that Dean was like a daddy and a mommy as well as a big brother and friend. He hugged tighter knowing he had the real deal in his arms.

* * *

Too close! Too close!

Dean sat in the back seat of the Impala with his brother's head in his lap. He was trying to apply pressure to Sam's neck without cutting off air supply in the process. Sam's blood ran into his lap rapidly. "Dad, you gotta go faster! I-I'm losing him!"

Dean wanted to cry, needed to, but he didn't allow the tears to come. Not until his Sammy was safe and even then he might not cry. He simply didn't deserve that luxury.

With his free hand, the middle Winchester brushed sweaty, bloody curls out of his brother's face. How could he let harm come to the person he loved more than life? His best friend was almost killed because he didn't back Sammy like he should have. The kid was only sixteen and should still have another sixty years or so left to live if Dean had anything to say about it. Quietly he gave himself a mental beat down. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Sam was losing blood and consciousness, but there was one thing he wanted to do before he lost all of both. He grabbed the hand that was stroking his hair.

Dean leaned in when he felt an all too familiar tug on his hand. "What is it Sammy?"

The older brother knew his little brother couldn't talk, but the Winchester brothers didn't need words. They had their very own silent language not even their dad could figure out.

Sam caught eye-contact with his brother. Not your fault.

The look he received from his brother told Sam that his brother didn't believe it. It said that if Dean had been taking care of Sam like he should have, Sam would be okay.

Frowning at his big brother, he tried again to push his point. Stop being stupid.

You're in mortal danger and its my fault.

Dumbass. Sam was glaring now. His brother could be so thick sometimes.

I'm sorry. I should have taken better care of you.

The next expression to cross his brother's face was an interesting one. Sam rolled his eyes and gave a silent mock huff. You are taking care of me now.

Fine. You win this time.

He knew he shouldn't, but he just had to push a little further to let Dean know he was going to be okay. "Jerrrk!" He rasped, trying to not strain anything or cause more bleeding. He was pretty sure he couldn't lose anymore blood.

"Always the bitch." Dean retorted. Don't you dare die. I love you Sam.

Dean received one last look from Sam that night before he passed out. And it was a look he knew by heart and could never misinterpret. I love you.

That made all the difference in the world. Dean no longer blamed himself for his brother's injury because with love that genuine, he knew Sam didn't hold him accountable. Another weight lifted from his shoulders. He knew Sam would pull through this time.

* * *

John stole glances in the rear view mirror as often as he could. His youngest was bleeding to death in the backseat. He didn't know all the details of how Sam was put in that condition and was sure Dean was responsible, judging by the look on his twenty year olds face. He didn't care who was responsible though. He just wanted Sam to be okay. If he wasn't, John knew he'd lose both sons that night.

He had been able to tell from day one that Sam was Dean's world. Dean lived and breathed for Sam as did Sam for Dean. They weren't two separate people, but extensions of each other. Each was the other's better half. Most parent's would feel blessed to have children with such an airtight bond, but for John it was downright scary. If he lost one child, he would inevitably lose his other one.

"Dad, you gotta go faster! I-I'm losing him!" No! John stepped on the gas, he was already pushing eighty. What was ten more miles? Ninety it is!

He glanced at the mirror once more when Sam's breathing slowed and Dean quit trying to soothe Sammy. "What is it Sammy?"

What happened next was completely lost to John. He never could figure out how his children talked without words. He highly doubted a professional interpreter would be able to construe their conversations. Hell, he bet Mary wouldn't even be able to do that and mothers were specially trained to be able to understand their children.

"Jerrrk!"

"Always the bitch."

John knew what that meant. It meant Sam would be okay and so would Dean.

* * *

Plastic chairs. Perfect.

Dean Winchester had made residence in a plastic chair over the past five days while his little brother slipped in and out of consciousness. Sam had barely been able to keep consciousness for more than a few minutes at a time, but Dean lived for those moments. Just getting to see his little brothers eyes open and staring into his own made him feel better.

If he hadn't yelled at Sammy, they wouldn't in the hospital. So what, the kid pulled a stupid on a hunt. He didn't have to yell at Sam so much. Dean had it worked out in his head, if he hadn't blown up at his little brother, he wouldn't have run away. Therefore, he wouldn't have been hit by a car.

He'd been asked to leave, had threats of calling security on him and been flat out told to go until further notice but Dean had made it clear that leaving his little brother alone was not an option. The whole hospital hated him now, but that was just fine with him, he was none to fond with them either.

He had been sitting and staring at Sam for what seemed like hours, so it was a surprise when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

"Oh! Uh, hi." Dean looked up and saw a pretty nurse he hadn't met before. It must be evil Nurse Bitch's day off.

"I thought you may be hungry."

Dean looked inside the bowl she held and asked, "What is it?"

The nurse had to laugh. She'd never actually had anyone have to ask before. "I think it's pudding. No one is really sure. I hear it tastes like shit."

Dean accepts the bowl, he's probably eaten worse. "That's the most honest anyone has been with me since Sammy and I landed in here."

"The other staff can be dicks." She saw Dean's surprise and shrugged. "They are."

Something about her seemed familiar. Not like he'd met her before, something different. The way she held herself, talked, even looked. He just knew her. Dean stole a glance at her nametag. "Gloria" it said. He didn't know her, did he?

"You really love him, huh?"

Dean shook himself from his trance. "What was that? I didn't hear."

"I said you must really love him. Word around the hospital is you are the spiteful young man that won't let the patient alone for even five minutes."

"Oh. Yeah, well…he's my little brother. He's…I dunno."

Gloria knew. "He's everything good in your life. Not just your friend or family; he's a part of you."

"Yeah." Dean knew how he knew her now. He was positive. She was a big sister to someone, somewhere in the world. Gloria and Dean were on the same team. In the same Big Siblings Club. She had done some of the same things he had, not on the same level of course, but she had done them .

Gloria knew the games, the arguments and buttons to push. Knew when enough was enough and when a hug and a kind word was needed. She knew all the tricks for teaching kids fun ways to learn and why vegetables were important to eat. What was scary and what made little siblings cry. Knew the kid inside and out and every other way known and unknown. No doubt, Gloria knew them all.

"Big sister?"

"Yeah. Practically raised my sister."

"Same here." He was twenty seven and still taking care of Sam. He liked it that way. Well, he liked it when he didn't screw up and almost get his little brother hurt or killed because of his thoughtlessness.

Gloria nodded. "I could tell. Something about the way you look at him."

Dean felt his face flush as he turned away quickly. He was having a chick flick moment and it wasn't even with Sam. His little brother would be mad if he ever found out. Which of course, he wouldn't.

"No, no. Don't be embarrassed. It's a good thing." Gloria sat at the edge of Sam's bed and waited for Dean to look at her again. Somehow she knew he would, he needed to here this.

" I see tons of people come through here each day and most of the families don't show as much love and concern you do. And the ones that do, it's usually spur of the moment feelings. Like as soon as the patient is back on their feet, its back to not talking to each other until Christmas and Easter or back to the fighting and staying at the office late. With you… I just know that whenever you guys leave, there is going to be the fights and hardships, but there will ultimately be love and friendship. You guys will be happy with each other's company."

Gloria decided to let Dean soak up what she said. She stood to leave and then turned, "Let me know if that pudding tastes like shit or not."

A smile threatened the corners of Dean's lips until the temptation took over and he chuckled. It felt so good to laugh. Cooped up in a hospital room, sitting in a plastic seat really did a number on a person's spirit.

Dean brushed his fingers over Sam's hair and moved his wavy bangs out of his face. "Well Sammy-boy, at least you weren't awake for that little moment."

Sam's eyes fluttered open and something in them told Dean that Sam had heard everything and if the moment had taken place under normal circumstances, Dean would never live it down.

" 'M the only one …you can't have chick flick…moments with?" Sam wheezed painfully, his ribs hurt like a bitch!

"Shuddup Sammy!"

Sam grinned a wide dimply grin. He might have looked funny with tubes hanging out of his arms and nose, but he knew Dean needed to see the smile.

"Don't ever do that again."

"What?"

"You know what Samuel."

Sam cringed. Dean never used his real name unless he meant it. It was okay though, it just meant Dean cared about him. He felt a tug in his lower region when he shifted in the bed and winced.

Dean snickered. Sam already knew what it was but felt he had to ask, "What was that?"

"Payback Sammy." _For scarin' the shit outta me and runnin' away from me_.

Sam scooted back down in the bed slowly. Can't run away if I have a catheter. Dean didn't do this, but he'll pay for it.

* * *

**'kay so this was Enkidu07's present from me, but I going to have to ask you all to drop a review... And stop by "So Not Into Psychics" I updated it.**

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY ENKIDU07! I HOPE YOUR DAY WAS AWESOME AND ABSOLUTELY ROCKED YOUR SOCKS!**

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	2. Let Him Sleep A Little While Longer

**Chapter 2: Let Him Sleep A Little While Longer**

**by: jasper03**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own them... I guess I'll take credit for the mistakes...**

**Btw, I am ETERNALLY SORRY for my MIA status for the past few month. Its been rather hectic. I will definitely update my fics soon. Message me if there is one in particular that you want updated.**

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"Come on! De, let's go!" Little Sammy Winchester yanked on his big brother's arm, trying to drag him out of bed. Sammy knew Dean had school, not that he wanted Dean to leave him. No, Sammy would keep Dean home with him forever if he could, but Daddy said Dean had to go. It was important, Daddy had said.

Dean shifted in the bed and let out a slight moan and curled up under the covers. He burrowed deep under the blankets and shivered. For the first time in his eight years of life, Dean wished there was a 'mute' button on his little brother. "Sammy, go get Daddy."

"De?" Sam was worried now. His brother wasn't acting like his brother and that made little Sammy want to cry. He stood and watched his big brother for a moment and then the urge to cry turned into action and Sammy plopped on the floor next to his and Dean's bed and let the tears come.

Dean cringed, not because the wails of his little brother were ear-splitting, not because the hitching sobs sounded painful, but because he knew somehow he was the reason Sammy was crying. He didn't like to be the reason his brother cried. He wanted to make the crying stop. When Sam was happy, so was Dean. It was the natural order of things.

Sammy felt a hand rest on his shoulder and knew it was Dean's. He leaned into the touch and his crying slowed as he sought comfort from his brother's hand.

"I'm sick Sammy, I need Dad. Please get him?" Dean curled in on himself once more as his chills worsened. He was relieved to see his little brother stand and run out of their room in search of their dad. Little Sammy screeches could be heard across the apartment and a minute later both Sam and John rushed into the room.

"Dean? Son, tell me what's wrong." John was becoming quite a pro at taking care of his baby boys. It was hard being a single father of two rambunctious boys, but it had become gradually easier. Sam was now the age Dean was when Mary had been killed and raising him was slightly easier because he knew what to expect after being through it with Dean.

Dean poked his nosed out of the blankets and answered, "My belly hurts."

"Is there more I need to know about son?" John rubbed Dean's little body through the blankets with one hand as he eased them down from his face with his other one. Dean's face was flush and his eyes were glassy. He felt Dean's forehead and knew immediately his son was beginning to get a fever.

"My head hurts. My nose is runny. I'm cold." With that said, Dean seized the blankets from his father's grasp and snuggled back into his cocoon.

John didn't quite know what to do. It sounded like Dean had the flu and no doubt Sam would come down with it before the week was over. A good parent would rush their child to the doctor as quick as possible, but John really didn't want to drag his sons down to the clinic so they could pick up more illnesses. Not to mention, he'd have to pay for the doctor to tell him what he already knew.

The children's flu medicine in the first aid kit was almost gone and there was only one box of Kleenexes. He sighed knowing he had to run to the drug store down the street. John was torn wondering whether he should make his sons get dressed and come with him or let them stay home for ten minutes alone. He looked at his poor sick son and his youngest. How much trouble could a sick eight year old and healthy four year old get into in twenty minutes?

"I have to run down to the store boys. I need to pick up some more medicine and Kleenexes. I'll be right back. Don't open the door for anyone. I have my key so there is no reason to open the door."

John heard Sam say 'ok' and Dean made a noncommittal grunt. He grabbed his jacket and wallet and set out for the drug store down the street. Shutting and locking the door of the apartment behind him.

Dean moaned again and Sam was right by his side. He sat on the bed next to his brother and began to pet Dean's side like he saw his daddy do. "I'm sorry De."

Dean flipped the sheets back and stared at his little Sammy through glassy eyes. Sorry? What could his baby brother possibly be sorry for? "What do ya mean Sammy? You didn't do anything wrong."

His brother would understand him soon. Dean was smart, he'd catch on. Sammy loved his big brother and recently had found that when Dean was unhappy, so was Sam. "Sorry you're sick. Don't like it when you're sick De."

Dean grabbed his brother's hand, he had to make this right before Sammy started to cry again. He wouldn't be able to take it if he did. Sammy had killer blue-green eyes and one look into those eyes and you would give him the world if he asked for it. "It's okay Sammy. Everyone gets sick."

"But I'm not!" Sam dove into the bed and burrowed into his big brother's chest. If Dean was sick, he wanted to be too. He didn't want his big brother to go through his illness alone.

Gotta make Sam stop this, but how? When he was maybe a little younger than Sam, Mommy had been sick and Daddy and Dean had helped her get better. They had brought her soup and Kleenexes and gave her blankets. Sammy could do some of those things.

"You can help make me better Sammy."

Little Sammy looked up with hope gleaming in his eyes. He would be the best helper ever!

Dean loved the way his little brother perked right up after hearing he could help. "I need some Kleenexes and more blankets."

Sammy shot right up out of the bed and set to work. Sam started with the blankets, he took all of Daddy's blankets from his room and drug them across the apartment. He had dropped one between his Dad's room and Dean's but he'd get it later. Next, he pulled the blanket off the couch and brought it to his impressive blanket pile in his and Dean's bedroom.

Sam started to stack the blankets over Dean as neat as a four year old could and remembered something special that would make his brother feel better for sure. Sammy picked up and small, worn blanket from the floor. It was Blankie. It was Dean's when he was Sam's age and he gave it to Sam. Sammy knew the blankie would make Dean better.

Sammy climbed over the mountain of blankets and tried to locate his brother. All he could see was the sandy blonde spikes of hair from Dean's head. He leaned in and yelled, to be sure Dean could hear him, "Better yet?"

Dean cringed inwardly as his brother yelled in his ear. " Getting better."

Pleased, Sammy hopped off the bed and set off completing his next task in making De better. Sam found the Kleenex box that sat next to the couch and grabbed a Kleenex out. Sammy realized one Kleenex wouldn't be enough to fix his brother. His hand dug in and pulled them all out. He ran back to his big brother with Kleenexes flying about behind him.

"I brought Kleenexes!" Sam dropped a messy pile of tissues over his cocooned sibling. They spread unevenly and some floated lazily to the floor. One more thing and Sam would be convinced his brother was well on his way to recovery.

Sammy rushed to the kitchen as fast as his little four year old legs could carry him and nearly smacked into the refrigerator for lack of skill in stopping quick. He pulled the fridge open and searched for the soup his family had the night before.

Sam pulled out a bowl that contained chicken broth and noodles. Perfect for a sick big brother. He wasn't allowed to use the stove to warm it up, but Dean would like it anyway. Soup is soup.

The child whipped the silverware drawer all the way out and it slammed to the floor, narrowly missing tiny feet. Silverware scattered the kitchen floor and Sammy picked out a spoon for his brother. Slowly, Sam carried the soup bowl and a spoon to his brother. Daddy was going to be so happy when he saw what good care Sam took of Dean. Sammy beamed at the thought.

"Here Dean, I brought soup!" Cheerily, Sam offered the soup bowl to his older brother.

Dean accepted the soup with a wide smile. He brought a spoon full to his lips and was shocked to find it cold. But if he disapproved in anyway, he never showed it. Deciding three bites was enough, he set the bowl on the lamp table next to his bed.

"Better yet?"

Dean looked at the sweet puppy dogs eyes of his younger brother and he felt warm and happy. Chocolate curls spilled around Sammy's ears and two perfect dimples completed a hopeful smile. "Almost Sammy. Thanks."

Dean gave Sam a genuine loving brother smile and Sam's heart fluttered. He had helped his big brother and now Dean was going be okay. Dean pulled the covers back and waited for the small four year old to join him. Little Sammy crawled into the bed and snuggled deep into his brother's warm embrace.

----

John let himself into his apartment and announced to a silence home he was back. He put popsicles in the freezer and set his new purchases out on the counter far enough back that little Sammy couldn't get into them.

"Sammy? Where are you? I'm back. Sam?" John shrugged out of his leather jacket and plopped both keys and jacket on the kitchen table. He knew why Dean wasn't running to the door to greet him, but Sam should be here. The silverware drawer lay on the floor and John's heart jumped.

"Sam?" John started to check the apartment. First the living room, he checked behind the two couches and noticed strewn blankets and Kleenexes littering the floor. John burst into the room his sons shared and didn't see anyone. Other than a monstrous pile of blankets and more Kleenexes, he saw neither hide nor hair of his children.

His bedroom door was open and he went to check under the bed and in the closet. There were pillows laying all over the floor and things had been knocked off his bedside table. This didn't look good. Not good at all.

John went to the bathroom to check for his youngest child. "Sammy? Answer me! Samuel Winchester answer me right now!"

To say he was worried would be an understatement. John was beginning to massively panic. He should have never left Sam and Dean alone. What if- what if the demon came? Or some other monster? How could he have left them unprotected? They were the most precious gifts Mary had given him. Before he had time to hyperventilate John tore out of the bathroom to look for Sam and Dean.

"Sam? Dean? Where are you?" John ran back to his children's room to double check that he hadn't missed them. He rummaged through the closet and then got down on his hands and knees to check under the bed. He pushed some clothing away to get a better look, but still saw no children.

A small fleshy object smacked his back as he began to lift himself from the floor. John pushed himself to his knees and grabbed the offending object. It was a tiny foot. Not just any foot either. He knew this foot like he knew his own. If he pushed back the blanket a little more he would find- yup an opposite match. Another set of feet were tangle around the other foot.

He followed the legs that were attached to the feet and then the small torsos to the necks and up to the heads of his sleeping children. Sammy was practically laying on top of Dean His arms were sprawled out over him as if he were protecting him. John made sure both children were breathing and slumped down to the floor and leaned back against the bed satisfied and frazzled.

He didn't know what he would have done if something had happened to them. John stood from his spot on the floor and turned to his sons. If he didn't tell them soon, he may regret it. Sam may be too young, but Dean was old enough. He put a hand on his oldest gave a gentle shake. "Dean. Son, I need to tell you something."

Dean gave no response and continued his feverish slumber underneath his younger brother's protective embrace. Sam shifted quietly in his sleep and nestled his face in Dean's neck. His curls fell into his little angelic face and John's heart melted. Even in their subconscious, his boys were protecting each other. Sam would never know it but he had just bought his older brother a little more time of innocence.

It wouldn't be long until John would have to tell Dean about the horrors that exist around him. Looking down at his little son he decided, for now he would let him sleep and dream just a little while longer.


End file.
